dual personalities

Month: November, 2017

Friday? Oh hell yes

by chuckofish

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The end of another week. After a big work event today, I will be ready for a low-key weekend and a tall glass of wine tonight.

As it is November and we are approaching Thanksgiving with alarming rapidity, I have been thinking about gratitude.  I am grateful for and proud of my scholarly academic relatives, including daughter #2 who just had her first scholarly article published in a scholarly journal: “Sentimentalism and Secularism in Pierre” in Leviathan: A Journal of Melville Studies. (I cannot even spell “sentimentalism”…spellcheck corrected me.)

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She has been working diligently to finish her dissertation and we are praying hard for her. She won’t be home for Thanksgiving, but we’ll be thinking of  her and looking forward to seeing her at Christmas.

I am also grateful for Dierbergs Market which will be cooking our Thanksgiving turkey for us.

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I’m sure they will do a heck of a job. I will be doing my best to rustle up my cheesy potato casserole and open a can of cranberry sauceee99e6f9-eb1a-430d-a68d-0558cefba577_1.402270de716c2fe121299c317d2d79cc

and pop some crescent rolls in the oven.

Screen Shot 2017-11-17 at 6.27.35 AMI will be counting on others to bring the rest. I am grateful for the ten adults who are coming and for the two wee babes who will join us at the table.

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Did someone say cranberry sauce?

So this weekend I will be readying the house for overnight guests (daughter #1 and my nephew Tim from Indiana) and the dining room for the feast.  I am grateful for the opportunity to do this. Time to get out the china and the crystal and the festive tablecloth. Time to iron the napkins and arrange the centerpiece.

I am looking forward to our annual viewing of Planes, Trains and Automobiles (1987) on Thanksgiving, so tonight my movie pick is for something else from the John Candy/Steve Martin oeuvre: Uncle Buck (1989) or The Great Outdoors (1988); Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid (1982)–something along those lines that will help us get in the holiday state of mind.

Also, this obit for a flyover collector was interesting.

Have a great weekend!

Society never advances

by chuckofish

“Society never advances. It recedes as fast on one side as it gains on the other. It undergoes continual changes; it is barbarous, it is civilized, it is christianized, it is rich, it is scientific; but this change is not amelioration. For every thing that is given, something is taken. Society acquires new arts, and loses old instincts. …The civilized man has built a coach, but has lost the use of his feet. He is supported on crutches, but lacks so much support of muscle. He has a fine Geneva watch, but he fails of the skill to tell the hour by the sun. A Greenwich nautical almanac he has, and so being sure of the information when he wants it, the man in the street does not know a star in the sky. The solstice he does not observe; the equinox he knows as little; and the whole bright calendar of the year is without a dial in his mind. His note-books impair his memory; his libraries overload his wit; the insurance-office increases the number of accidents; and it may be a question whether machinery does not encumber; whether we have not lost by refinement some energy, by a Christianity entrenched in establishments and forms, some vigor of wild virtue. For every Stoic was a Stoic; but in Christendom where is the Christian?”

–Ralph Waldo Emerson, Self-Reliance

What would old Emerson think of the age of computers and artificial intelligence…with self-driving cars and drones that bomb people and places on the other side of the world…

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Discuss among yourselves.

Thoughts and (more) prayers

by chuckofish

Do you need a little mid-week pick-me-up? Mandisa will lift your spirits! Don’t be embarrassed–sing along!

Here’s a thought for today from Frederick Buechner:

“God speaks to us, I would say, much more often than we realize or than we choose to realize. Before the sun sets every evening, he speaks to each of us in an intensely personal and unmistakable way. His message is not written out in starlight, which in the long run would make no difference; rather it is written out for each of us in the humdrum, helter-skelter events of each day; it is a message that in the long run might just make all the difference. Who knows what he will say to me today or to you today or into the midst of what kind of unlikely moment he will choose to say it. Not knowing is what makes today a holy mystery as every day is a holy mystery. But I believe that there are some things that by and large God is always saying to each of us. Each of us, for instance, carries around inside himself, I believe, a certain emptiness—a sense that something is missing, a restlessness, the deep feeling that somehow all is not right inside his skin. Psychologists sometimes call it anxiety, theologians sometimes call it estrangement, but whatever you call it, I doubt that there are many who do not recognize the experience itself, especially no one of our age, which has been variously termed the age of anxiety, the lost generation, the beat generation, the lonely crowd. Part of the inner world of everyone is this sense of emptiness, unease, incompleteness, and I believe that this in itself is a word from God, that this is the sound that God’s voice makes in a world that has explained him away. In such a world, I suspect that maybe God speaks to us most clearly through his silence, his absence, so that we know him best through our missing him. But he also speaks to us about ourselves, about what he wants us to do and what he wants us to become; and this is the area where I believe that we know so much more about him than we admit even to ourselves, where people hear God speak even if they do not believe in him. A face comes toward us down the street. Do we raise our eyes or do we keep them lowered, passing by in silence? Somebody says something about somebody else, and what he says happens to be not only cruel but also funny, and everybody laughs. Do we laugh too, or do we speak the truth? When a friend has hurt us, do we take pleasure in hating him, because hate has its pleasures as well as love, or do we try to build back some flimsy little bridge? Sometimes when we are alone, thoughts come swarming into our heads like bees—some of them destructive, ugly, self-defeating thoughts, some of them creative and glad. Which thoughts do we choose to think then, as much as we have the choice? Will we be brave today or a coward today? Not in some big way probably but in some little foolish way, yet brave still. Will we be honest today or a liar? Just some little pint-sized honesty, but honest still. Will we be a friend or cold as ice today? All the absurd little meetings, decisions, inner skirmishes that go to make up our days. It all adds up to very little, and yet it all adds up to very much. Our days are full of nonsense, and yet not, because it is precisely into the nonsense of our days that God speaks to us words of great significance—not words that are written in the stars but words that are written into the raw stuff and nonsense of our days, which are not nonsense just because God speaks into the midst of them. And the words that he says, to each of us differently, are be brave…be merciful…feed my lambs…press on toward the goal.”

And here’s a prayer for today:

“Much as we wish, not one of us can bring back yesterday or shape tomorrow. Only today is ours, and it will not be ours for long, and once it is gone it will never in all time be ours again. Thou only knowest what it holds in store for us, yet even we know something of what it will hold. The chance to speak the truth, to show mercy, to ease another’s burden. The chance to resist evil, to remember all the good times and good people of our past, to be brave, to be strong, to be glad.”

–Frederick Buechner, The Hungering Dark

And did you know that November is Prematurity Awareness Month? The wee babes are literally poster kids for it!

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“Be Thou our guard while troubles last, And our eternal home.”*

by chuckofish

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Today the Episcopal Church celebrates the feast day of Samuel Seabury (November 30, 1729 – February 25, 1796) who was the first American Episcopal bishop and the second Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church in the U.S.A.

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In the years leading up to the American Revolution, Seabury earned a reputation as a staunch defender of the Church of England. During his participation in the founding of King’s College (Columbia University) his four Loyalist pamphlets from “A.W. Farmer” (or Letters from a Westchester Farmer) incurred the rage of American patriots.

Despite his anti-Revolutionary sentiments, Seabury became increasingly concerned that the Colonies needed a bishop. His adversaries, especially the Congregationalists, regarded such a move as a further encroachment of the Church of England, and thus the English Crown, upon the American Colonies. But Anglicans supportive of the American Revolution–George Washington among them–could no longer comfortably worship and take communion in a church officially tied with King George III. Thus, the Episcopal Church came into existence.

Seabury sailed for England in 1783 for his consecration, because even though the Episcopal Church was formally separate from the Church of England, it was still spiritually and theologically aligned. Another awkward situation, to say the least. So awkward, in fact, that the Anglican Church refused to consecrate Seabury. So Seabury turned to the Scottish Church, which granted his request. Bishop Seabury then returned to America to bolster and expand the Episcopal Church in the newly recognized United States of America.

You may recall that there used to be a seminary named in Seabury’s honor–Seabury-Western Seminary in Evanston, Illinois. However, it ceased operations as a residential seminary granting the Master of Divinity degree in May 2010, and in January 2012 it moved from Evanston to the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America headquarters. In 2013, it joined with Bexley Hall and became part of the Bexley Hall Seabury Western Theological Seminary Federation.

There are now ten accredited seminaries of the shrinking Episcopal Church. One can’t help but wonder what old Samuel Seabury would think of his turmoil-torn Church these days.

Eternal God, you blessed your servant Samuel Seabury with the gift of perseverance to renew the Anglican inheritance in North America: Grant that, joined together in unity with our bishops and nourished by your holy Sacraments, we may proclaim the Gospel of redemption with apostolic zeal; through Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

As for this, no comment.

*Isaac Watts, O God, our help in ages past, Our hope for years to come, Be Thou our guard while troubles last, And our eternal home.

Pray, and praise thee without ceasing*

by chuckofish

In church on Sunday I got to read I Thessalonians 4:13-18 wherein Paul attempts to prepare the Thessalonians for the return of Jesus when they will be reunited with all those who have died in Christ: For the Lord himself, with a cry of command, with the archangel’s call and with the sound of God’s trumpet, will descend from heaven, and the dead in Christ will rise first.

Good stuff.

The weekend was a busy one and a fun one! We did all the things on our to-do list, plus more things, like grocery shopping, laundry and vacuuming! But we never connected with the wee babes. Their parents are busy too. Oh well, c’est la vie.

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Another busy work week looms with another event at the end on Friday. Onward and upward.

*Hymn 657, Charles Wesley

Change of plan…

by chuckofish

So, I just spent all morning writing a nice, sad post about remembering WWI and the 100th anniversary of the Battle of Passchendaele (3rd Ypres), where 70,000 British, Canadian, and ANZAC soldiers died and 275,000 more were wounded between July and November 10, 1917.

Alas, when I went back to see if anyone had commented, my post wasn’t there. I don’t know what went wrong, but I’ll take that as a sign that I should discuss something cheerier today.

Therefore, I shall move from the sublime to the ridiculous and post about Thor: Ragnarok, which I saw last Tuesday evening after a long, long day at work. It kept me awake!

Directed by Taika Waititi of Hunt for the Wilderpeople fame, Thor: Ragnarok is a funny, over-the-top (no WWI pun intended) wild, escapist romp. You know how I feel about superhero movies, but I thoroughly enjoyed this one. The cast members had great chemistry and superb comedic timing, and were clearly having fun. Sure it had lots of CGI, but it fit. If you want to escape the world for a couple of hours and laugh out loud while doing it, I recommend Thor.

If you don’t want special effects, then try another movie I just watched: the great 1940 classic, His Girl Friday, starring Rosalind Russell and Cary Grant. The witty dialogue is delivered rapid-fire and no one misses a beat. I can’t wait to use the line, “You’re wonderful… in a loathsome sort of way.”

And talk about superb comedic timing…these two are perfect! The subject matter — journalists covering a corrupt local government’s mishandling of a murder case — stands the test of time. This is not a movie that would work with cell phones and computers, so let’s hope no one tries to remake it.

Given that it is the 99th anniversary of the end of WWI, you might be up for a WWI movie. Prepare to be sad. I would recommend any of the following:

  • All Quiet on the Western Front (1930)
  • Wings (1927)
  • La Grande Illusion (1937)
  • The Dawn Patrol (1938)
  • Gallipoli (1981)
  • A Very Long Engagement (2004)
  • Behind the Lines (aka Regeneration) (1997)

What have I missed?

 

Saddle up

by chuckofish

I have a busy weekend ahead, which follows a very busy week. I was on the radio yesterday–interviewed on the local “classical” station about our flyover institute! Also, an old friend was in town for our Veterans Day event today and I had lunch with him. Then daughter #1 drove into town because she was leaving early this morning to go to a wedding in D.C. We watched The Magnificent Seven together! Sometimes when it rains, it pours!

Tonight the OM and the boy and I are going to see Ricky Skaggs and Kentucky Thunder at the Sheldon, which is a relatively small venue that we like very much. It should be a rip-roarin’ good show.

web 900 x 600 Ricky Skaggs02.jpgOn Sunday I have tickets to see the STL Winter Opera production of The Student Prince! It is cultural overload this weekend, right?

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I grew up listening to the Mario Lanza LP, so I am well versed in this light opera. Remember that album cover? Remember this song?

Good stuff. Anyway, two musical events in one weekend is way more than my usual quota.

And as I mentioned, Veterans Day is tomorrow and we should all have a thought and a prayer for all those men and women who have served in the U.S. Armed Forces. Here’s a prayer:

Gracious God, we give thanks for military men and women, both from the past and present, and for their courageous service and sacrifice to our country and its people to secure the blessings of life, liberty, and justice for all. May our remembrance be a timely reminder that our freedom was purchased at high cost, and should not be taken for granted. Give us resolve to labor in faithful service to you until all share the benefits of freedom, justice, and peace; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen

And here are a few great scenes: from Sands of Iwo Jima (1949) with John Wayne as Sgt. Stryker

…and Gregory Peck in Twelve O’Clock High (1949):

…and from Life Is Beautiful (1997):

How and why we fight.

Have a good weekend.

“You come with me, we hunt buffalo, get drunk together! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!”*

by chuckofish

This November, we celebrate Native American Heritage Month, a time to honor the history, culture, and traditions of Native Americans past and present.

On September 28, 1915, President Calvin Coolidge issued a proclamation that resulted in the first Native American heritage celebration in the United States; he declared the second Saturday of each May as American Indian Day. In 1990, President George H. W. Bush approved a joint resolution designating November as National American Indian Heritage Month.

We will try to be more respectful in our celebrations this month than might be suggested from our entertaining, but culturally appropriative, singing of “Ugga Wugga Wigwam” to the wee babes the other night.

Perhaps we will watch the final season of Longmire, which premiers next Friday.

But I doubt it. Since reading all the books last summer, I am loathe to watch the show, because in my opinion, the video version and its ridiculous story lines do not compare positively to the books. I mean, there is no torture of people (Indian or white) in the books (see trailer)! There is no evil Indian bad guy in the books! And I’m sorry, Walt is a lot smarter in the books! Furthermore, Walt has a good relationship with the Cheyenne in the books, not the relationship fraught with drama portrayed on the tv series. All the racial unrest on the show is inserted to heighten the drama and that drives me crazy. Ugh.

We’ll have to think of something to do to celebrate Native American Heritage Month, such as visit one of the various American Indian sites throughout our state. There are several–for instance, I did not know there is a restored and authentically finished 1790-1815 French and Indian trading post and village, at Fort Charrette Village and Museum, 10 minutes east of Washington, Missouri. The fort includes five log houses, one of which is believed to be the oldest log house west of the Mississippi River. All are furnished with 1700s American antiques. There is even a winery nearby!

In the meantime, here is something beautiful and perceptive from Willa Cather:

“It was the Indian manner to vanish into the landscape, not to stand out against it. The Hopi villages that were set upon rock mesas were made to look like the rock on which they sat, were imperceptible at a distance. …

In the working of silver or drilling of turquoise the Indians had exhaustless patience; upon their blankets and belts and ceremonial robes they lavished their skill and pains. But their conception of decoration did not extend to the landscape. They seemed to have none of the European’s desire to “master” nature, to arrange and re-create. They spent their ingenuity in the other direction; in accommodating themselves to the scene in which they found themselves. This was not so much from indolence, the Bishop thought, as from an inherited caution and respect. It was as if the great country were asleep, and they wished to carry on their lives without awakening it; or as if the spirits of earth and air and water were things not to antagonize and arouse. When they hunted, it was with the same discretion; an Indian hunt was never a slaughter. They ravaged neither the rivers nor the forest, and if they irrigated, they took as little water as would serve their needs. The land and all that it bore they treated with consideration; not attempting to improve it, they never desecrated it.”

Death Comes for the Archbishop

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Ruins of Hopi Trading Post by James Swinnerton (1875–1974)

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Thomas Moran (1837–1926)

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Thomas Moran (American, 1837 – 1926) -“Hopi Museum, Arizona”, 1916

*Pony That Walks in She Wore a Yellow Ribbon (1949)

“CAPTAIN Hilts.”

by chuckofish

Today we remember Steve McQueen who died on November 7 in 1980. (I’m a day late.)

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We miss Steve.

This poster was on the door of the Senior Room at my school in the late sixties.

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It represented all things cool to me in the middle school. Indeed, this is still as cool as it gets. I am not wrong.

Although there are many posers out there, no one these days comes close to Steve. The actor who reminds me the most of Steve is Charlie Hunnum.

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He can even ride a motorcycle. And wait a minute, he is, in fact, starring in the remake of Papillon. Clearly I am not the only one who sees the similarity. However, I am sure this attempt to remake this movie will end badly.

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There is only one Steve.

Tonight we will toast old Steve and watch one of the classics:

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The Magnificent Seven

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Bullitt

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The Sand Pebbles

…or any of these you can get your hands on. I have to admit, I’m kind of in the mood for The Blob.

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And, okay, this made me smile/LOL. I mean, I could certainly relate to the two Irish women in their late 60s – one with a “walking aid” – who were able to make off with a 6 ft portrait of Steve McQueen from a Belfast hotel. They were only foiled in their attempt when they couldn’t fit it into their car. How great is that?

No update on whether they caught the “not-so-magnificent-two”.

BTW, the little dude got his first haircut the other day.

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I think we know how he felt about that.

Thoughts and (more) prayers

by chuckofish

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I was going to say something about the latest mass shooting and how thoughts and prayers are openly mocked in this country, but I just can’t. I thought this, written by Ravi Zacharias about this atrocity, was right to the point.

Our only hope is in the Lord.